Coordinates for today’s measurements (two sampling stations) are 43O30’N, 124O23’W and 125O40’W, six and twenty miles from the coast at depths of 100m (330ft) and 400m (1,315ft) respectively in addition to measurements (three sampling stations) for coordinates 43O40’N, 124O16’W to 125O25’W, three to ten miles from the coast at depths of 80m (265ft) to 120m (395ft). Bob and I have become efficient pros at deploying and retrieving the four biological sampling nets. It takes us no more than 35 minutes to complete all the biological sampling and that includes the ten minute tow required for the Manta net to sample the surface.

Personal Log

Today is the last day of the cruise. My final 4-hour early morning shift of the cruise went well. The last sampling station for the cruise was completed at ~0930. I spent the morning downloading data, adding information to my NOAA TAS logs, packing my personal gear, cleaning my sleeping area, and enjoying the last few hours on the open ocean from atop the flying bridge philosophically pondering its future and perhaps humanity’s future. In the meantime the NOAA crew was busy making preparations for docking in Coos Bay. For the last leg of the cruise into Coos Bay the science team assembled on the McARTHUR II flying bridge to enjoy the Oregon coastal scenery, relax, and take photos. Lots and lots of photos! I overheard one science team member say that he took 1.7 gigabits of photos during the cruise! Another took over 200 photos in one day alone. Wow! Thank goodness for digital cameras or else that would have been quite expensive to process if film had been used.

Entering the channel to Coos Bay, OR

The cruise’s end was bittersweet. For ten days I had been away from my wife and two young children. I missed them even though I emailed them everyday from the ship. I can’t wait to see them. At the same time though the cruise was so enjoyable in so many ways it’s hard to pinpoint one or two that stand out head and shoulders above the rest. It was hard work no doubt about it and at times I thought I’d never get a decent sleep. But the science team assembled by Chief Scientist Steve Rumrill was from the beginning and to the end a well-oiled machine that understood the mission’s objectives and dealt with problems that came to light in a timely and professional manner. I’m not aware of any issues that arose during the cruise between the science team members themselves or between the science team and NOAA crew. If they existed, then they must have been dealt with and worked out immediately. To me it’s a testament to the professionalism shown by all- science team and NOAA crew- on the cruise and the leadership of those chosen to lead.

The Lorax

Over time I’ll likely forget most of the names of those I met on this cruise. Time and age tend to do that as I’ve already experienced even in my relatively young age. But it’s less likely that I’ll forget the faces, the natural scenes observed, and the conversations had. How could I forget the graceful albatross gliding without effort and with such skill inches above the water without ever flapping its wings? Or the bioluminescence of krill? Or the first time while on the bridge the bow of the ship sunk low in the trough of a wave, the horizon and sky disappearing.

And what’s to become of the world’s oceans? What’s for sure is that for the next twenty years humanity will continue to exert more pressure on the world’s oceans to feed its relentless population growth, satisfy its rapacious appetite for resources, and serve as the transportation conduit to keep the world’s consumer economies afloat (no pun intended). Throughout human history the marine world has always delivered but there are signs that it may be in trouble, too tired to keep up with the maddening pace that the modern world has set, too exhausted to give freely as its finite resources are an ever alarming rate. I’m reminded of two small, unassuming but prophetic (and hence controversial) children’s books written by Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein almost forty years ago, The Lorax and The Giving Tree respectively. I’ve read them to my two children numerous times. After this cruise they make even more sense.

The Giving Tree

Without complaint the oceans have given much to humanity. In many ways the oceans are liquid gold. The history of human achievement is defined in large measure by our historical relationship with the marine world. It’s teeming with an abundance of life struggling to survive in the oceans’ harsh salt water environment. The current plight of the marine world represents a defining challenge humans must confront when planning for the future of our troubled planet. The historical narrative of the oceans is written in its sediments, water, and the genetic database of the million of organisms that call the ocean home. The future narrative is being written right now. What is its fate?

In conclusion, this cruise has given me a rarefied, first-hand look at the ocean world in which I live. To be sure our planet is misnamed. Rather than Earth, instead it should be named Oceanus, for our world is a water world that gives so much pleasure and asks for so little in return. What is its fate?

At 120 feet, the water has absorbed red, yellow and green wavelengths of light, muting the brilliant colors of these Lionfish and other reef organisms (the Lionfish in the foreground is partially illuminated by the video camera)

Science and Technology Log

I wanted to explain a little more about the purpose of the Lionfish study. The technical name of the study is Assessment of Lionfish Ecosystem and Fisheries Impacts. The Principal Investigator/Chief Scientist is Paula Whitfield, who works out of the NOAA Lab in Beaufort, North Carolina. Several years ago, Paula had heard reports of Lionfish seen off the coast of North Carolina. A recreational diver, Paula visited these sites to see for herself; what began as a casual observation turned into the guiding question for a complex Lionfish ecosystem study that is now in its seventh year. As I understand, the guiding questions framing the study are:

Initially the scientists needed to understand, to what extent Lionfish have invaded the coastal waters of the eastern US. Under this broad question fall many sub-questions: Are they successfully reproducing? How large is their population? Are they expanding their geographic range, and is their population growing? Finally, what biological and physical factors may limit their survival (i.e. what environmental conditions do they need to survive)?

After the initial research results revealed a widespread and well-established presence of Lionfish, researchers refined their objectives to better understand the fisheries and ecosystem impact of Lionfish. This is a very broad question and includes many sub-questions such as: What species are they eating? Is the number of “conspicuous fish” species (large and easy to see and count) decreasing in areas where Lionfish are present? Are the number of “cryptic fish” species (small typically prey species that hide within the habitat) decreasing in areas where Lionfish are present?

The scientists also seek to better understand how Lionfish impacts may be further complicated by other variables such as overfishing and climate change. Examining this question requires looking at many other aspects of the marine ecosystem as indicators of ecological health. Sub-questions are: How are the physical and chemical ocean parameters changing over time (e.g. sea temperature, ocean currents, chemical composition)? How are algal populations changing over time? How are invertebrate and soft-bottom communities changing over time?

Initial results of the study were eye-opening. Everywhere the research team went, they found Lionfish. From 20042007, the data across the sampling sites showed an increase in population of well over 300%. Considering that these fish have no known predators, and females release 30,000 eggs at a time, it is not hard to imagine the severe impact that these fish could potentially have on the marine food web and ecosystem. In addition, Lionfish are tropical reef fish, which require warm water to survive and reproduce. As climate change occurs, it is conceivable that Lionfish could expand their range in response to rising sea temperatures or a shift in Gulf Stream currents.

Paula Whitfield (right), Chief Scientist of the study, and I enjoy the sunshine.

Both the morning and afternoon shifts went off without any problems. Coordinates of the seven sites for the longitudinal sampling along the Coquille Estuary Line are 43O07’N, 124O29’W to 125O15’W extending 2 to 40 miles from shore and from depths of 44m (145ft) to 2,300m (7,550ft). My tenth 4-hour shift was spent traveling north to the first sampling site along the Umpqua Estuary Line. Coordinates for the longitudinal measurements are 43O40’N, 124O16’W to 125O02’W extending 3 to 40 miles from shore and from depths of 80m (265ft) to 1,300m (4,265ft). See map below.

Personal Log

Coordinates for the longitudinal measurements of the first sampling site of my shift

In preparing for Saturday’s early morning shift, I noticed when I walked onto the ship’s fantail that the night sky was clear and stars dotted the dark night heavens. I made my way to the flying bridge to observe the cloudless night sky lit up with millions of stars. All the major constellations visible in the northern hemisphere at this time of year just after midnight were easily seen in all their brilliance and mystery. The cool, crisp salty air added to the beauty of the moment. It made for a peaceful, philosophical moment. But as I have found in my brief stay in Oregon such celestial opportunities do not present themselves often and when they do it’s not for long. Clouds soon appeared, blocking the view and ending any chance to identify and name all the major constellations. After finishing the early morning shift I stayed up until after sunrise to take advantage again of photographing the sun rising above the eastern horizon through a thin layer of clouds.

Such meteorological conditions created a sky painted with various shades and hues of red, orange, and yellow. It was if a giant painter had a brush and painted the sky- his canvas- a riot of colors pleasing to the eye and emotions. The science of immaterial light from the sun interacting with the material gaseous atmosphere and clouds and the timing made for a time of quiet reflection and contemplation of the vastness of the universe and the relative insignificance of the Milky Way galaxy and our blue ocean planet. Tomorrow is the last day of the cruise. I have one more early morning shift. We are scheduled to dock in Coos Bay sometime in the early afternoon.

Sunrise off the southern Oregon coast as seen from NOAA ship McARTHUR II

In addition to the Lionfish survey, the other research that is being conducted while aboard the NANCY FOSTER is benthic habitat mapping of the ocean floor. This is accomplished using highly sophisticated, computerized multi-beam SONAR technology. Two survey technicians aboard the ship are responsible for running and monitoring the system, which is run all through the night. The operators make sure that the system is recording data properly and that the ship stays on course (within about 5 meters), and process the data as it is recorded. The course is set and followed, lawnmower style, back and forth along long narrow parallel lines, producing a beautiful rainbow colored map coded for “depth by color,” where red is high and blue is low. After five nights of mapping, the white digital nautical chart contains five tiny rainbow swatches, each one representing about 10 square miles of mapped space. Each year the research team adds to the swatches, until one day perhaps the entire bay floor will be mapped. Scientists later use the maps to support their research; in this case, Paula used them to determine where to dive. With countless miles of ocean floor (much of which is sand, or poor fish habitat) and limited time and research budgets, the maps are a critical part of the research effort.

Tara holds up a specimen that some of the scientists said was the biggest Spiny Lobster they had ever seen!

There are a lot of variables such as temperature and salinity that can influence the transmission of the sound waves produced by the multi-beam sonar to measure seafloor depth. In order for the data to be as accurate as possible the survey technicians need to measure these variables throughout the water column using a CTD (conductivity (salinity), temperature and depth). They conduct three CTD ‘casts’ a night by first lowing and raising the CTD on a long cable that is controlled by a winch.

Personal log

Today, the Chief Engineer caught a Wahoo off the stern of the boat. Wahoo! Can you think of a fish with a cooler name? It’s a cool fish, too, sleek and streamlined, with large jaws and a loud stripy pattern on blue gray skin. It was perfect timing, since a barbeque was planned for our last afternoon at sea. The fish is nearly all muscle, and yielded 25 steaks, almost enough for each one of our full ship of 35 people aboard. How was it, you ask? Delicious! The scientists also caught several large Spiny Lobsters, a Scamp (a Grouper), Hogfish, Sea Bass, and of course, many Lionfish. In addition, they saw a Mola Mola (Sunfish) and several Loggerhead Turtles.

Longitudinal sampling continues along the Coos Bay Line. Coordinates for all measurements (twelve sampling stations total) along Coos Bay are 43O20’N, 124O27’W to 125O27’ extending 3 to 55 miles from shore and from depths of 50m (165ft) to 2,800m (9,200ft). Today was my seventh (morning) and (afternoon) eighth 4-hour shift. All went well.

Personal Log

After the morning shift I asked my shift mate and veteran sailboat skipper Bob Sleeth to give me some pointers on how to set a nautical heading using parallel rulers. I know all about latitude and longitude but have never sat down with a nautical chart and looked at all the interesting information found on them. As a kid I watched a lot of old World War II naval films like Midway and Iwo Jima and I remember the scenes where the captain and senior officers are studying a nautical chart of the western Pacific with obvious intensity in order to plot a heading to cut off supplies for the Japanese navy or whatever. I always thought those scenes cool.

NOAA TAS Scott Donnelly charting a marine navigational heading

So here I am thirty years or so later, a happily married father of two and professor of chemistry, in my mind pretending the role of ship’s navigator on the famous WWII battleship USS Missouri as I consult with Capt. Stuart Murray in setting a heading to Tokyo Harbor with General of the Army Douglas MacArthur on board, making last-minute preparations for the surrender of the Empire of Japan ending World War II. I guess I can blame all the fresh ocean air I’ve taken in the past week for such a fantasy.

About mid-morning after a deep sleep I went to the flying bridge (observation deck) located above the ship’s operations bridge to watch the true masters of the sky- the albatross- glide effortlessly just inches above the glassy, mirrored ocean surface. The albatross rarely flaps its wings when flying. Rather, the albatross conserves its energy for its long distance oceanic travels by using the uplift from the wind deflected off ocean waves. Their long, slender, aerodynamically efficient wing structure allows the albatross to stay aloft for hours at a time. They soar in long looping arcs. They indeed are a grand spectacle to observe.

Today the morning dive at Lobster Rocks went to 125 feet. The report was that it was an excellent dive, and the video showed this to be true. The visibility was excellent and the habitat looked rich. Among the Amberjacks, Grouper, Blue Angelfish, and Hogfish, were tons of Lionfish! They were everywhere, lurking around every ledge and rock. They look like princes of their domain, regal in their showy capes of red and white, brandishing lances to keep out intruders. Neither aggressive nor fearful, as they have few if any predators, they hover in place, guarding their territory from other lionfish.

NOAA Teacher at Sea, Tara Treichel, has just taken length and fin ray measurements from this large lionfish, and has removed gonads and a gill sample for lab analysis.

The morning divers brought a small collection of creatures back for further study, including a sample of bryozoans (a form of attached invertebrates that looks a lot like algae), a large spiny lobster (carapace at least 5 inches in diameter), a handful of fish for the cryptic fish survey, and about a dozen Lionfish. I helped Wilson take basic measurements from the Lionfish, and dissected them to remove gonads and gill samples for DNA analysis. The fish ranged in size from 150 to 380 mm, from mouth to end of tail. Next, dorsal and anal fin rays are counted, to help determine species classification (lionfish are of Indo-Pacific origin, and are classed in two subspecies based on number of fin rays). On the fish sampled, dorsal fin rays varied between 10 and 11.5, but anal fin rays consistently numbered 7.5. After I had removed the gill section and gonads, I gave the fish to Brian, who opened up their stomachs to take a cursory look at what the fish had been eating. In one, he found a small spiral shell about the size of a shirt button. In another, the stomach was bulging full, and contained four small fish, whole but partially digested and terribly stinky. All in a day’s work of a scientist! After this initial information was collected, the fish were labeled in zip-lock bags and frozen for later study.

The stomach of this small Lionfish contained four partially digested whole fish.

Personal log

Today I had the fortune—and the misfortune—of getting out in one of the small boats. I say fortune because the conditions were ideal: calm seas and sunny blue skies. It was a great day to be out on the water, and I expressed an interest in going for a swim. We were responsible for shuttling the safety diver to assist the dive team, and transporting the dive team back to the NANCY FOSTER. The misfortune occurred toward the end of the dive, as the safety diver was trying to reboard the boat. To make it easier for him to enter the boat, the skipper removed the side door of the craft, a routine task. Under normal circumstances, the bilge pumps purge any water that splashes into the boat, but on this day, for reasons unknown the bilge was already full of water, and the water that surged into the open door space quickly filled the stern of the boat. We tried to replace the door, but the water was spilling in too quickly, and the boat slowly overturned. So, I got my wish to swim faster than I’d expected! Fortunately, as I mentioned, it was a fine day for a swim. Minutes later, two rescue boats were deployed from the NANCY FOSTER, and shortly after we picked up the dive team and were safely onboard the mother ship again. The ship had quite a challenge getting the overturned boat back onboard and into its cradle, but with skilled use of the crane, the boat was recovered in little over an hour. It was the sort of adventure I had least expected when going out to sea. I was happy that no one got hurt, and impressed with the response of the NANCY FOSTER crew.

As forecasted for Wednesday night the turbulent seas have calmed and the howling winds coming from all directions have subsided. On occasion a large wave smashes into the ship broadside. But, for the most part, it seems like the storm has moved onto land. Sampling operations restarted around 2000 (8pm) last night. This morning from 0100 to 0500 is my sixth 4-hour shift. Today nearshore and offshore CTD and biological sampling continues at different longitudes 124O29’W to 125O15’W but constant latitude 43O07’N. This is called a longitudinal sampling survey. The latitude and longitude coordinates align with the westward flow of water from Coos Bay estuary in Coos Bay, OR. Along these coordinates CTD deployment will reach depths as shallow as 50m (164ft) to as deep as ~2,800m (~9,200ft)! Round-trip CTD measurements will take more time due to progressively greater depths with increasing distance from the OR coast. On my morning shift we collected samples at two stations. At the second station 30 miles from the coast the CTD was deployed to a depth of 600m (1,970 feet).

Monitoring CTD data

During Thursday’s afternoon shift (my seventh 4-hour shift) the CTD was lowered to a depth of ~2,700m (~8,860 feet) located 50 miles from the coast. At this distance out at sea, the coastal landmass drops below the horizon due to the curvature of the earth and the up and down wave action. The round-trip CTD deployment and retrieval to such great depths take about two hours to complete. The dissolved oxygen (DO) probe measurements indicate a secondary DO layer in deep water. So how are the continuous data measured by the CTD organized? What are the trends in data? In science graphs are used to organize numerical data into a visual representation that’s easier to analyze and to see trends. Below is a representative drawing of how CTD and wet lab data are organized and presented in the same visual space. Note the generous use of colors to focus the eyes and show the differences in data trends.

What are some trends that can be inferred from the graph above? First, with increasing depth, seawater becomes colder (maroon line) until below a certain depth the water temperature is more or less at a constant or uniformly cold temperature (compared to the surface). Second, the amount of dissolved oxygen (DO) in seawater (green line) is greatest near the surface and decreases, at first slightly then abruptly, with increasing depth below the surface. Third, salinity (red line), which is directly related to conductivity, increases with increasing depth. Furthermore, in general seawater pH (blue line) becomes more acidic (and conversely, less basic) with increasing depth. Last, marine photosynthetic activity as measured by chlorophyll a in phytoplankton (purple line) is limited to the ocean’s upper water column called the photic zone. Below this depth, sunlight’s penetrating ability in seawater is significantly reduced below levels for photosynthesis to be carried out efficiently and without a great expense of energy.

The consistently low (acidic) pH measurements of deep water collected by the Niskin bottles and analyzed on deck in the wet lab are a concern since calcium carbonate (CaCO3) solubility is pH dependent. On this cruise the pH measurements between surface and deep waters show a difference of two orders of magnitude or a 100 fold difference. Roughly, pH = 8 for surface water versus pH = 6 for deep water offshore. This difference in two pH units (ΔpH = 2) is considerable as it indicates that the deep water samples are 100 times more acidic than the surface water. pH is a logarithmic base ten relationship, i.e. pH = -log [acid] where the brackets indicate the concentration of acid present in a seawater sample. A mathematical difference in two pH units (ΔpH = 2) translates into a 100 fold (10ΔpH = 102) difference in acid concentration. Refer to the Saturday, April 19 log for a discussion concerning the importance of CaCO3 in the marine environment and the net acidification of seawater.

Personal Log

After the morning shift but before a hearty breakfast of eggs, hashed browns, sausage, bacon, and juice, I hung out on the ship’s port side to watch the sunrise, a memorable mix of red, yellow, and orange painting the sky. It was one of the best sunrises I remember and that’s saying a lot since I live in southern Arizona, where the sunrises and sunsets are the stuff of legends. With the low pressure system having moved over land, the sea was calm and the temperature considerably warmer with no clouds positioned between it and the ocean. Perhaps surprisingly, I haven’t sighted a whale or a whale spout, even in shallower, more nutrient-rich coastal waters. It’s not that I haven’t looked as each day I’ve visited the flying bridge (observation deck) above the operations bridge enjoying the immensity of the vast Pacific.

A flock of albatross have begun following the ship I suspect in hopes of getting a fish meal, mistakenly thinking that the McARTHUR II is a trawler. I saw trash, which I couldn’t identify without binoculars, floating on the surface. Sadly, even the vast, deep oceans and its inhabitants are not immune from humanity’s detritus. The history of humanity and its civilizations are intimately linked to the world’s oceans. This will not change. Humanity’s future as well is linked to its maritime heritage. The oceans have fed us well and have unselfishly given its resources without complaint. Perhaps it’s time we return the compliment and lessen our impact.